


Three is a Magical Number

by Phantom_Queen



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Sex, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unprotected Sex, writing challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:55:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23595697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantom_Queen/pseuds/Phantom_Queen
Summary: They always said three was a magical number. Three minutes is all it takes for your whole world to change.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Kudos: 111





	Three is a Magical Number

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings:- Language. Sex. NSFW. Unexpected pregnancy. Unprotected sex. Past mentions of death. Small amounts of angst - maybe. Fear. Uncertainty. Doubt. Comfort. 
> 
> A/N: This was written for @star-spangled-man-with-a-planfor Star’s Follower Celebration writing challenge! My prompt was the quote "Just...come back alive, okay?" and it is in bold in the fiction to mark it. I really enjoyed writing this story and have had a lot of fun writing it, despite how nervous I am posting for a writing challenge. I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> I apologise for any mistakes made.

**Three is a Magical Number:-**

Three minutes. 

In the grand scheme of things, three minutes wasn't very long. A blink of an eye and it would be gone, never to return. Three minutes was the length of time it took you to make your morning coffee. Three minutes was how long it took for Bucky to pin you to the ground during training, because as good as you were - he was better. 

Yet right now, as you hid in the bathroom trying to be as quiet as you could so not to wake Bucky before his alarm went off, three minutes was the longest damn time in the world. Goosebumps prickled your arms at the chill in the air, and your feet tapped as you sat on the side of the bath waiting.

Your eyes darted nervously to the little white stick that would in the next three minutes change everything or change nothing—the weight of time-pressed down on you like a ton of bricks. 

_What if you were pregnant?_

_What if it was positive?_

You hadn't discussed children with Bucky, the relationship the two of you had was still too new for those particular conversations. Yet you couldn't deny there was a something there, a connection, a safety, security you had never had with previous relationships. You moved to each other's rhythm as though it was the most natural thing in the world. You may not have said the words that it was for the long haul; you were taking it one day at a time and enjoying every second of it, yet something profound inside of you felt that this was it. As though everything clicked into place. You finally realised what all the fuss was and what the books and films were portraying. Neither of you was perfect by a long shot, you had a few spats, but both of you had worked hard in communicating with the other about what you needed and what you wouldn't let slide. 

You sighed, pushing yourself to your feet and walked towards the sink, anything to distract you from your racing thoughts. You turned on the cold water, let it run for a few precious seconds before scooping some in your hands before bending down to rinse your face, your reflection staring back at you. You could see the bags around your eyes, and you could see tiredness that had made a home across your face. It had been a rough four weeks for the team, having taken out a few Hydra bases as new information filtered through, it was perfectly understandable that you had lost track of your cycle. The fact you realised you were late was because you had opened the bathroom cupboard for something and realised you hadn't restocked the tampons for a while. One week you could let slide, but approaching five weeks had set alarm bells off which had resulted in a mad dash to the nearest drugstore to pick up a pregnancy test. Something that was easier said than done when you lived with a bunch of spies and ex assassins who picked up on the slightest difference in behaviour and had to pick and pick at it until they had an answer on why something had changed. 

It took you two days to fucking pluck up the courage to take the damn thing - sealed box mocking you every time you went into the cupboard. You're timing sucked, Bucky was to go on a mission without you, but if you backed out now, you weren't sure you would be brave enough again.

_You just needed to breathe. Everything would be fine; everything would be fine._

Except neither one of you had the safest job. Getting shot at wasn't in the small print in your contract it was in fucking neon letters at the top of the page. It was normal. Hell, the only reason you weren't joining the mission today was that the Doctor had signed you off because the last mission had resulted in you taking two bullets in the shoulder and you still hadn't healed. Your pulse started to race, and a stab of pain twisted in your chest, oh god, what if you were pregnant, pregnant and had already put the baby's life in danger.

_No,_ panicking was not the way forward, panicking got you nowhere. Your mother taught you better than that. Except you weren't your mother, you weren't a reliable, stable person who could provide a child with everything it would need. You had problems miles long and demons deep in your soul. You were broken and damaged - how the hell could you ever be a good mother? 

_Breathe._

_Just breathe._

You close your eyes, licked your lips and dug deep steeling your spine as molten fire poured through your veins. You opened your eyes, turned to face the toilet where the little white stick waited with your fate. You had faced down Hydra Agents, Enhanced individuals hell-bent on raining chaos down on the world, terrorist organisations and more bad guys than you cared to count. You had been good at your job, long before you became an Avenger. 

You could face this right now. 

You took a breath, and took a step forward; your ankles manacled with lead chains, each step painstakingly heavy. Picking up the pregnancy test, you centred yourself and looked down. 

You blinked. 

_Pregnant._

There it was, spelt out for you in English. 

_Pregnant._

You were pregnant. 

Your heart pounded heavily against your chest, and your breath stuck in the back of your throat. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't breathe. 

_Fuck. You were pregnant. You were pregnant, would have been pregnant on your last mission._

Fear gripped around you tightly, your stomach churning, your mind racing through the last mission, taking note of every blow that had been thrown your way and where every hit had landed, you would need to reach out to a doctor straight away, or whoever the hell you needed to speak to when you were pregnant? Who exactly did you need to contact? Oh, god, how could you be pregnant when you were already failing so severely, screwing up everything before the baby even had a chance to live. Tears filled your eyes, and you swallowed down the cry that wanted to escape. You couldn't fall apart. You absolutely couldn't fall apart. What if Bucky didn't come back from this mission, what if something happened and you would be alone? Oh, fuck, what if people found out that you were having Bucky Barnes' baby - the Winter Soldier, what if Hydra? 

Old habits reared their head and the urge to run flared to life through you. Running was something you were good at, something you knew how to do well—running and killing, hardly best mom material. You didn't know how to be a good mom; how to raise a child, your mother had died too soon, leaving only distant memories before everything turned to shit...before you became fucking Alice lost in wonderland making one wrong decision after the other. The urge to run, to hide from the rest of the world so they would never know was an overwhelming one. 

_Stop._

_Breathe._

_Think._

_Plan._

Your training was finally kicking in, pushing its way to the surface through the blinding panic to push it back. Losing your shit was not an option. You were better than that. You could allow yourself the initial shock, but nothing more. Running wasn't an option, not anymore, you couldn't do that to Bucky, and you couldn't do that to yourself. For the first time since your mother's death, since the tender age of eleven you were in control, you had stability, a home, friends, a family you had chosen and someone you loved. 

You weren't alone. You just needed to tell Bucky. Except you couldn't, not right now. Not when he was about to go on a mission, you couldn't put him at risk like that, couldn't distract him. You would tell him when he came back, once you made sure everything was okay with both you and the baby, and then you could discuss everything, plan together. 

"Doll, everything okay?"

Your pulse raced, and every cognitive thought abandoned you. You weren't okay; you were so far from okay it was next to impossible to form a sentence, to say the words you knew were a lie. 

Bucky didn't give you a chance to answer, whether the frantic sound of your heartbeat clued him in that something was desperately wrong, or whether something else gave you away, he opened the bathroom door and stepped inside. The weight of his gaze pressed down against your skin, leaving a scorching trail as they scanned you for any sign of harm. Your gazes locked. You could see the deep concern swirling around in his blue eyes. God, how you loved his eyes, you had fallen into them so many times and lost yourself in their swirling depths, you came undone in his eyes. It was never a pretty face that made you lose your senses; it was always the eyes. Not that Bucky wasn't pretty; no he was downright sexy as hell, but it was his eyes that sucked you in and never let you back out for air. 

Then his eyes shifted, looked down at your hands, your hands that were holding the pregnancy test and the decision to tell him right now was out of your hands. 

"IlosttrackIdidn'tknow...I'm -," the words tumbled out of your mouth in a rush. From the confused look, Bucky gave you, you knew he hadn't understood what you were trying to tell him, but understanding lit up his eyes as he stared at your hands and the white stick. 

"You're pregnant?"

"I'm pregnant," you whispered, saying it out loud for the first time and didn't that hit you like a punch from Thor making it all the more real. Your eyes stung, you could feel the tears threatening to break free any second as fear slithered up your throat. God, you were choking on it, what the hell were you supposed to do? How the hell would you be able to keep the baby safe? 

"We're pregnant," Bucky said softly, letting you know in that single sentence that you weren't alone, would never be alone, that he was with you, your heart tightened painfully, the words giving you the reassurance you hadn't known you needed. The tears fell. 

"Oh, baby-doll," Bucky whispered, already moving towards you and not stopping until he had wrapped his arms around you tightly. You buried your head into him, inhaling the comforting scent of his shower gel, a combination of rum, cardamom and cinnamon that blended with the smell that was pure Bucky, metal and amber—spiced and warm. You could feel the tension slipping away from your shoulders, relaxing into him as he held you tight. At that moment, as your hearts beat together as one you knew nothing would touch you, nothing would ever touch you as long as you worked together as a unit, as long as you had each other's backs, and you always would.

"Why didn't you tell me you thought you could be?" he asked quietly.

"I didn't realise until a couple of days ago, and then I didn't want to distract you before today's mission. I didn't want to put you at risk," your heart fluttered, except you had put Bucky at risk. 

"Hey, you haven't put me at risk," he moved so he could cup his hands around your face, his eyes boring into you "You know I do everything in my power to come home."

He didn't give false promises; he didn't provide reassurance in that it was a straight forward mission and nothing would go wrong, you both knew that nothing was ever straight forward when you were out on the field, and it didn't take much to throw a spanner in the works. 

He looked at you, your eyes locking, and as you gazed into his eyes, you fell into that deep melding as though he could see right through you and you through him. It seemed as though you could feel the warmth of his soul through his gaze. He kissed you, softly at first reassuring you; your eyes close, floating in the heat of his lips against yours. His kiss deepened then, teasing at your bottom lip until you submitted and then it was all hungry, hot and breathy, seeking union and closeness, chasing the elusive liquid fire that reached through both of you—sharing one breath and one sensation.

He pulled away, his eyes darkening with lust and something you couldn't name but it made your heart flutter and pulse race. He kissed you again, tongues dancing together as you tangled up in each other. He lifted you off your feet, your legs wrapped around him, his hardness pressing into you as he walked you out of the bathroom, back towards the bed, it sent shivers of excitement through you every time he pushed against your core. He laid you down until he was covering you with his body. You melted into him, your body and his moulding to the other until you fit perfectly. His hands caressed your face gently. 

"We will figure this out together," he said gently.

"Together."

You leaned up, pressing your lips against his, sealing the promise with a kiss and so much more. You wanted him, at that moment, you wanted him in ways you couldn't possibly put into words. The fear of everything of the uncertainty pushed to one side. You would do this together, would be decided together. You rolled him over until you were straddling him. His hands gripped your waist, scrunching up your PJs until you heard the material give away and split in two. You braced your hands against his, positioning yourself over him, both of you more than ready as desire coursed through your body. 

You slid down his shaft, a long moan escaping your lips as he thrust upwards driving himself deeper into you. His fingers traced lightly across your bare hips until a hand eased between my thighs. You leaned back, hands resting on his legs, arched to give him easier access as his fingers fluttered over your clit. It sent one shiver after another through you. You began to move, circling your hips, slowly; a groan escaped him, each move as slow as you could make it, a shiver running down your spine as he grabbed your hips tightly, metal and flesh digging into your skin. You rode him, his hands guiding you as he thrust into you, each thrust that little bit harder, and you gnawed at your bottom lip as the fire spread through you. 

Bucky pulled you forward, until your breasts pressed against him, his hands still tightly holding onto your waist, pulling you tight against him as you moved as one. Every nerve in your body bubbled and shivered, every thrust driving you that little bit closer to the edge, you needed to move faster - needed the sweet release that was building up inside you. 

"Fuck me hard... _please, Bucky!"_

Bucky rolled you over, so you were beneath him, his hips swivelling that little bit harder, that little bit faster, picking up the speed you so desperately needed. You began to peak, the wave building and building as it carried you upward.

_"Fuck, god, yes, please don't stop."_

Bucky shifted, pumping faster, you could feel his whole body tensing. Your fingers dug into his back as you lost control of yourself, as you clenched around him, your body shivering as you cried out, the wave of pleasure flooding through you lighting every nerve on fire. He grunted and stiffened arching his back with one final thrust; you could feel him shudder inside of you as he came. He slumped against you, reaching up to stroke your hair and kiss you gently, for a moment the two of you stayed there, him still inside of you, arms wrapped around together and you knew nothing else mattered. It was you and him against the world: you and him and your baby. For the first time since that little white stick had told you, you were pregnant; you weren't afraid. 

He shifted, pulling out of you just as his alarm blared to life, telling you both it was time for him to start getting ready for the mission. 

"Bucky," you said softly. 

He turned to you, blue eyes looking at you filled with so much warmth and acceptance it tugged at your heart. He accepted you; flaws, dodgy past and everything in-between, and you accepted him wholly and completely. 

**"Just...come back alive, okay?"**

He gave you a reassuring smile, leaned across the bed to kiss you once again. 

"Always," he promised, "And when I do, we will figure this out."

You gave him a slight smile, "We will figure this out."

You watched as he rose from the bed, appreciating the view of his ass as he walked towards the bathroom. You knew that as long as he came back alive, everything would be okay, and he would come back alive, you were confident of that. 


End file.
